


Amadeus, Amadeus

by fantastik_obskurials



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Amadeus the owl, And then a human one, Fluff and Humor, Graves has a feathered visitor, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 18:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15914151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantastik_obskurials/pseuds/fantastik_obskurials
Summary: Graves finds a feathered intruder in his office, followed by a redheaded English one, and finds himself all a-flutter.Pure fluffy nonsense meet-cute.





	Amadeus, Amadeus

**Author's Note:**

> This is my much-belated entry for last week of the FB Calendar, thanks to my laptop going on the fritz.
> 
> If you want to know what Amadeus looks like, look up the northern white-faced owl!

MACUSA was routinely full of surprises. Admittedly, none usually at the level of ‘the Director of Magical Security is actually Grindelwald in disguise’, but it was a rare day that went by without something along the lines of an explosion in the ladies bathroom, a tropical microclimate taking up residence in the archive floor, or (one of Graves’ personal favourites) a minor revolution led by a band of disgruntled memo mice. However, after the larger surprise of the Grindelwald fiasco (the GF for convenience and peace of mind), Graves had made a concerted effort to keep all surprises and revolutions firmly outside his office. Inside the office was an oasis of calm and order where Graves could retreat at any time. It was heavily warded against outside sound and intruders, and in the eight months since the GF not a soul had entered without Graves actively leading them. 

Which is why it came as a shock to find an owl of all things taking up residence on Graves’ desk.

Owls were not common in MACUSA. The American wizarding community prided themselves on a more discreet approach than those barmy Brits across the pond and routinely used less conspicuous birds such as pigeons and crows if enchanted memos would not suffice. 

And yet, the small angry ball of fluffed up feathers currently occupying Graves’ desk (and fucking _dripping_ all over his nice paperwork) was most definitely an owl, though admittedly not a terribly statuesque one. After a few more angry stamps across today’s meeting schedule the thing had the nerve to swivel its tiny head round and glare at Graves through squinted eyes. Graves glared back on impulse. 

**_Too-hooo_ **

Could an owl sound indignant?

Graves took a step forward, aiming to catch the thing and send it merrily (or grumpily) on its way. Two small steps from the desk the thing fucking _stretched_ and glared at him. With the tufts of white hair around its beak it looked very much like it was doing a rather spot-on impression of a certain supremacist madman. Graves barked out a laugh. The owl puffed back into a fat little ball, apparently pleased with itself.

“Alright, you get points for that smartass, but you can’t stay in my office.” Now he was talking to an owl.

The owl swivelled its head and squinted.

“Nope, this is an owl-free zone my friend.”

With that, he decided to assert himself properly, and moved to grab the feathered menace. It glared at him right up until he though he had it and suddenly there were feathers in his face and fucking _claws_ digging into his lapels. The thing then took off for a lopsided flap around the room before settling on top of the bookcase where it proceeded to try and fix its feathers while hooting in an aggrieved fashion at Graves. Graves could feel a headache coming on.

The wards were alerting him to someone outside the door, which was just what he didn’t need. 

_You’re a fucking wizard Graves, act like it._ He took out his wand, resulting in another squinty-stretch, but just as he raised it to cast the owl disappeared silently. 

What the…

At that moment two things happened. Somehow, his office door opened without his permission, depositing a rather rumpled length of a man with red curls, and he felt the distinct flex of talons on top of his head. He was going to wake up any minute, he was sure of it.

“There you are! Good grief I’ve been looking for you all morning you silly fluff and I find you off galavanting as if you don’t have an injured leg - come down from there at once!”

Something about that impassioned speech reminded Graves of his mother on one of her rants but the owl was unmoved, hooting cheerfully at the intruder. Graves sighed and gathered all the dignity one could possible have with a ludicrous excuse for an owl on one’s head.

“Mr Scamander I presume?”

The man in front of him flashed a quick smile before glancing away.

“Yes, that’s me. Terribly sorry about Amadeus, Mr Graves, he’s quite young and has a lot of personality as I’m sure you’ve seen. I’ve been fixing up his leg and some issues with his plumage but he likes to play hide and seek…”

He trailed off, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

“How did he get in here?” he asked, deciding at the last minute not to tack on and how did you for that matter?

“Well, this particular breed, though they look almost identical to the non-magical Northern White-Faced Owl, are a related magical breed. The owls wizards use are all magical in some way of course, but this breed’s abilities are something I was unaware of until quite recently. They are highly resistant to spell-casting and appear to have some form of apparative ability, one which does not seem to follow all the rules of human apparition”

_That would also explain why he’s on my head._

“Ah. Interesting.”

That comment got him a beaming smile. “Isn’t it?!” Really, a smile like that should be illegal. Maybe that’s what did old Grindels in.

“He’s really taken with you it seems, an awfully fussy little devil you know.”

“Mmm. Well perhaps you might know a means of summoning him from off my head?”

Aaand apparently the blush was just as illegal.

“Oh! Of course, terribly sorry Mr Graves - now come on Amadeus, you’ve outstayed your welcome young man.” 

Graves tried not to breathe as the man stepped much too far into his personal bubble. He really was ridiculously tall. But with merely a hoot and a fluff of feathers, the menace let himself be cradled in Scamander’s hands, looking terribly smug. Graves tried not to think that he’d look smug too if he had those hands on him. Scamander was murmuring and crooning and it was _not at all attractive_.

“…and you shouldn’t even be up you silly thing, did no one ever tell you you’re nocturnal? Well, maybe you just have an unusual sleep pattern, not like I can talk, but really, did it have to be the Director you ran off to?”

The man finally noticed Graves was still standing there in his own office. Graves was not remotely hurt that Scamander clearly did not wish to be around him, no indeed.

“I apologise again Mr Graves, I had no idea he could apparate quite so far. Or through wards actually.”

“No harm done Mr Scamander. He may have done me a favour with the paperwork, though probably not so much with my hair.”

Scamander glanced at his head and looked like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Yes, he has rather rearranged you to his liking hasn’t he?” _You can rearrange me to your liking anytime._ Graves’ thoughts were as unruly as that bloody bird.

Scamander flashed a grin and moved to the door.

“Well, I’ll let you get back.”

Just as he was about to step away, Graves cleared his throat.

“Mr Scamander - thank you. For- for all you did for MACUSA. And myself.” He was not blushing. Not.

Scamander just flapped a hand in a wave, as if the entire business was routine. Perhaps for such a man it was. With an awkward nod, the mop of curls and the ball of fluff disappeared out the door.

Graves turned to the mirror on his cabinets and groaned. He looked more nest than man.

  


The next morning, all was calm again. Quiet. As it should be. 

Graves was not disappointed.

  


Three hours later he was wondering if it was legal for him to borrow a certain creature. Just to check its permits and perhaps uncover a little more of how the hell it got through his wards.

  


It was seven in the evening and Graves had still not managed to defeat the ever-replenishing pile of reports. There was such a backlog after the GF and he couldn’t quite bring himself to trust anyone else to sort it all out. And there had certainly been no sign of any redheaded Englishmen. Not that he’d been looking. 

Goddamnit it was time to go home. He just felt such apathy at the prospect right then. 

As he turned to the wall to grab his coat he found a familiar squinting face glaring back at him from the hook.

Graves grinned.

“Well hello Amadeus.”


End file.
